Eloquent, profoundly melancholic, intelligent and deeply wise, sentimental and provocative yet always raw in terms of emotion, Virginia Woolf was a woman entirely ahead of her time. This is made with much love and respect in her memory.
Then we were floating. Such are the visions which proffer great cornucopias full of fruit to the solitary traveller, or murmur in his ear like sirens lolloping away on the green sea waves, or are dashed in his face like bunches of roses, or rise to the surface like pale faces which fishermen flounder through floods to embrace.
Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway. (via violentwavesofemotion)
- ? Jul 22nd 2012
Suppose the looking glass smashes, the image disappears, and the romantic figure with the green of forest depths all about it is there no longer, but only that shell of a person which is seen by other people - what an airless, shallow, bald, prominent world it becomes! A world not to be lived in.
Virginia Woolf, Between The Acts. (via violentwavesofemotion)
- ? Jul 14th 2012
It was a way things had sometimes, she thought, lingering for a moment and looking at the long glittering windows and the plume of blue smoke: they became unreal. So coming back from a journey, or after an illness, before habits had spun themselves among the surface, one felt that same unreality, which was so startling; felt something emerge. Life was most vivid then.
Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse.- ? Jul 12th 2012
Certainly she was losing consciousness of the outer things. And as she lost consciousness of outer things, her mind kept throwing things up from its depths, scenes and names, sayings, memories and ideas, like a fountain spring.
Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse (via alecforshort)
How difficult not to go making “reality” this and that, whereas it is one thing.
Virginia Woolf, Diary Entry, 10 September 1928.
- ? Jun 4th 2012
You’re spending your life, talking, writing things, getting bills through, missing what seems natural. Still, there’s the mind of the widow — the affections; those you leave untouched. But you waste you own. I would point out that a human being is not a set of compartments, but an organism. Imagination, Miss; use your imagination; that’s where you fail. Conceive the world as a whole.
Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out.
- ? Jun 2nd 2012
We walked on the river bank in a cold wind, under a grey sky. Both agreed that life seen without illusion is a ghastly affair.
Virginia Woolf, Diary Entry, 10 November 1917. (via violentwavesofemotion)
- ? Jun 1st 2012
I haven’t this “reality” gift. I insubstantise, wilfully to some extent, distrusting reality - its cheapness.
Virginia Woolf, Diary Entry, 19 June 1923.
- ? May 21st 2012
She had taken no part in the talk; no one had spoken to her; but she had listened to every word that was said. Sitting lightly upright she seemed to be dealing with the world as she chose; the enormous solid globe spun round this way and that beneath her fingers.
Virginia Woolf,The Voyage Out.
- ? Mar 30th 2012